


Indulgence

by RikkuReads



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attractive!Wade, Drunk!Peter, Drunken Kissing, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Peter, POV Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sexual Tension, Sponsor!Wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuReads/pseuds/RikkuReads
Summary: Peter Parker is not someone who gives up. Or so he thought. After Gwen Stacy, his best friend (and occasional lover) was killed in a car accident, Peter takes up a rather dangerous hobby of drinking. Aunt May takes notice and forces him to go to Alcoholics Anonymous where he meets Wade, an ex special forces hunk with an over the top but charming personality, who becomes his sponsor. Cue the forbidden relationship and things get dicey.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

The sidewalk is a no man's land; it'll take a soldier's effort to cross it. Peter stands on the curb, staring at the front door of a tall brick building. It's one of many in Queens, he had probably passed by this one a thousand times without paying it any attention.

But now it has a purpose.

Aunt May’s small squeaky car pulls away into steady traffic, leaving him in front of the building all by himself. People pass by him as he stands there, blissfully ignorant of the battle going on inside his head.

He could just walk away, go to a nearby coffee shop and wait there until May comes back to pick him up. He could lie again like he’s been doing for the past four months. Just like he had lied about the way he's been handling the grief and about how he almost drinks himself to death every other day. Or about dropping out of college two months ago. One month after the accident. He also hid the fact that he'd been evicted from his apartment not too long ago.

Harry has been kind enough to let him stay at his place, but Peter can sense him regretting his presence. And now May knows everything there is to know. She figured it out by the smell of booze on him and the inconsistent excuses when he came to visit. She's been through the whole alcoholic thing with uncle Ben once upon a time, so she didn't hesitate a couple of days ago when she told Peter he has to go to an AA meeting.

Peter doesn't think he's an addict. He's simply a guy who just happens to be going through a rough time. And for good reason: He spent his entire high school career letting himself get pushed around by bullies and rejected by people he admired. Despite the setbacks, he’d always found a way to get around it, somehow. One of the ways was Gwen Stacy. After meeting her in their junior year of high school, she became a constant in his life. Someone he could always fall back to, especially when his uncle died. But he can’t do that anymore, because she’s gone. She's _gone_ and it’s _his fault._

Peter doesn't know how many times he's woken up in places he doesn't recognize, feeling like someone had taken a swing at his head with a hammer. Neither can he recall how many fist fights he's gotten into with random guys at college parties. The fights were usually meaningless, but one time, he got into a particularly nasty one with his good friend Johnny. They don't talk anymore. 

So instead of disappointing the people he cares about even further, he decides to cross no man’s land. Maybe here, he could find help for something other than his supposed drinking problem.

The front door opens just as he's about to knock. A man with wire-rimmed aviator glasses stands there holding it open. “You’re late,” he says, eyebrows raised. Peter gives an awkward smile as the man steps aside to let him in. “But that’s okay. We haven’t started yet.” The man moves into a circle of conversing people and sits down with them. Peter follows and finds an empty chair.

A muscular (and very attractive) man with a big smile on his face cuts off his conversation with a woman to make note of Peter’s presence. “And I shit you not, at that moment I was in the middle of a dildo fuckstorm and— hey! New meat!” Peter freezes in place at those words and everyone stops talking to stare at him.

“Wade, remember our discussion?” the man scolds.

“Yeah, yeah. No calling the newcomers ‘meat’. Sorry Jeff.” 

As Peter sits, Jeff leans to him and says, “My name isn’t Jeff. It’s Charlie.”

“It’s not my fault you've chosen to look like a cannibal serial killer,” teases Wade.

Now that Peter thinks about it, Charlie really _does_ look like Jeffery Dahmer. Maybe an older, more middle-aged version of him. Probably a little bit kinder towards people too. And animals.

“Well, now that we’ve established my name, why don’t we start the session by you telling us yours?”

Peter doesn’t hear anything that Charlie says. Wade has caught his gaze, and they're now looking at each other from across the circle. It's more of a blank stare on Peter’s part, while Wade looks at him smugly.

“Peter, isn’t it? I think that’s the name I heard over the phone. Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

Peter snaps out of his daze once he hears his name. He looks around to find not only Wade's eyes on him, but everyone else's, too. “Oh uh, well, there’s not much to know about me.”

“Sure there is. Tell us one thing. First thing that comes to mind.” Charlie pokes his glasses into place on his nose.

“I... used to like biophysics.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah. Used to.”

“What’s something that you like right now?”

“Uh... coffee?”

“Don’t we all. Isn’t that right everybody?” The circle nods in agreement.

Peter stays quiet for the next thirty minutes, just listening to Steve talk back and forth with people. Occasionally he makes eye contact with Wade but slowly forces himself to look away.

Wade’s smile is intimidating but kind at the same time. It stands out from everyone else's. That's not the only thing that Peter is intrigued by. His eyes communicate something as well.

By the time that Charlie lets them go for a coffee break, Peter has fully taken in Wade's appearance. He's wearing green cargo pants, combat boots, a grey t-shirt and a dark grey sweater that's unzipped with the sleeves rolled up. He's got broad shoulders, a crew cut, fucking great bone structure, It's obvious he's got abs of steel under that shirt and...

"Coffee?"

Peter looks up to find the man that he'd been ogling at for half an hour standing right before him. "What?"

"You said you like coffee, right?" Wade is holding two steaming paper cups full of coffee and holds one out to Peter who awkwardly takes it.

"Fuck that's hot," mutters Peter as he sets the cup between his legs and holds onto the top of it. "Don't they have those cardboard sleeves or something?"

"Yeah you are. And nope."

Peter glances back up at him, thinking he heard him wrong. He knows he has to say something or it'll get awkward. "So what's with the get-up? You in the military or something?" 

"Ex special forces, actually." Wade holds his coffee cup nonchalantly. 

"Why ex?" asks Peter, trying to act interested but carefree at the same time.

"Dishonorably discharged. Couldn't keep it in my pants," answers Wade. Peter shifts in his chair. "Well, my gun, that is."

"So what makes special forces so... special?"

"Let's just say we're superior in all things known to man."

"Well," Peter snickers, "not anymore for you, it seems." 

Wade scoffs but his smile is more present than ever. "I'm three years sober," he says, pulling an AA chip out of his pocket and giving Peter a quick look at it. It's gold and has the roman numeral of three on it. "Just here to offer support. And whatever else that... floats your boat," says Wade in a rather seductive tone. He watches Peter take a sip of coffee in reply and holds his hand out. "Wade W. Wilson. At your service."

Peter takes his hand and shakes it. "Peter." He lets go of his hand. "Peter Parker. You realize what you just said makes you sound like a prostitute, right?"

"What's wrong with that?" Wade's face is serious, he seems almost offended, but then a smile slowly creeps across his face. "Do you need a sponsor, Pete?" he asks after taking a long sip of coffee.

"A what?"

"A sponsor, someone who guides you through your addiction. Encourages sobriety. You know... that kinda crap. A sponsor."

Peter has no intention of getting sober. If it were anyone else asking to sponsor him, he'd say no. "Sure. Why not," he shrugs. It's an excuse to get closer to the man. 

"Really? I thought it'd be harder to get a bite from you. So, whaddya say? My place, tomorrow night?"

"Is that normal? Do sponsors usually invite their..." Peter searched for the word. "sponsees over to their house?"

"Sheesh yeah. All the time, Petey."

After exchanging numbers, Wade introduces Peter to some of his friends. "This is Logan," he says as he puts a hand on Peter's shoulder and points to each person. Logan grunts and takes a bite out of a pastry. "He's just a grump sometimes, don't mind him," Wade whispers loudly to Peter and earns a sneer from Logan in return. "There's Nathan and that's Jack. I'm sure you all know that this is Peter. He likes coffee, remember?"

Nathan gives him a friendly nod. "Nice to meet you Peter." Peter is taken aback by how tall the man is. It also looks like he has a fake eyeball. 

"I'm gonna sponsor him," states Wade. Logan frowns. 

"Hey Peter... you wanna buy some cocaine?" asks Jack unashamedly. Peter gives Wade a worried look.

"He's kidding," Wade says, giving a nervous chuckle.

"Okay everyone, if you'd come back to the circle we can start the second half of the session," calls out Charlie from across the room.

Logan pulls Wade away to talk to him. When Jack sees that Wade is occupied he leans in and says, "I'm totally not kidding," in a too serious tone.

Another thirty minutes later and Peter is standing on the curb again, waiting for May to pick him up. The spring air has become cold and he finds himself shivering; he can feel the goosebumps covering his arms. "Need a ride home?" says a voice behind him.

"No, my aunt is coming. Thanks though," he says as Wade comes to stand beside him.

"Aunt? Jeez, kid." After a moment of looking him up and down Wade says, "Well if I'm gonna be your sponsor we should get to know each other a little. How old are you? seventeen? eighteen?"

"Twenty-three." Peter rubs his arms for warmth.

"Okay good. Not a kid," says Wade. Peter tilts his head in question. "Just, uh, glad you haven't been drinking illegally."

"Right." Something flips in his stomach; he wishes he didn't feel so nervous around the older man. Wade is so stupidly attractive that Peter can't think straight. 

It's like Wade can almost read his mind because he nudges him and says, "No need to be nervous, Petey. If I'm gonna be your sponsor you'll have to open up to me at some point. I'm also not that scary once you get to know me."

"I'll take your word for it."

Wade just grins, and fuck. His eyes are beautiful in the sunlight.

May pulls up beside them with the window rolled down. "Hi Peter. Who's your friend?"

"Hi Peter's aunt! I'm Wade. Peter agreed to let me sponsor him." Wade wraps an arm around Peter's shoulder, giving him a squeeze, and holds his free hand out for May to shake.

"Oh you're in the program too? That's great! He could use a good friend right now." May shakes his hand and smiles. Wade gives him a slap on the back and lets him go. He walks to the other side of the car and gets in and May waves to Wade as they drive away. "Pretty friendly guy, huh?"

Peter doesn't answer. He's looking down at his phone with a smirk on his face.

_See you tomorrow Pete! ;))_

_Oops I meant smiley face_

_But the winky one works too XD_


	2. Chapter 2

It’s getting dark out, the billboard across from Wade’s apartment is starting to glow different shades of red, blue, and purple. He expects Peter to be knocking at his door any minute now, as he texted him ten minutes ago saying he was on his way. Wade becomes more and more nervous as time goes by. Just thinking about Pete makes him start to wonder if he made a mistake.

He was sure at first, that it was a good idea to be his sponsor. But after Logan pulled him aside the other day and told him he could be kicked out of the program for having ‘intimate relations,’ as he called it, with a ‘sponsee,’ he started to realize just how intimate he actually wanted to be with the boy. How did the grumpy, hairy bastard even know those were his intentions without him fully realizing it himself?

Judging by their ongoing text messages, (and just the way he looks at him) Wade can tell Peter is just as interested as he is. The young man is quite bold. He's not sure if it's due to the whole texting thing or if it's because he's drunk and hiding it well.

He starts to think about cancelling, calling Peter and telling him he was in over his head about the sponsor thing and that he wasn’t fit because he relapsed. This isn’t true, but he really doesn’t think he can resist the urge to fuck him up against that wall over there. He wants to spare any bit of decency he has left in his tragic, warped mind.

Before he can do anything, he hears the expected knock at the door and his heart starts to hammer in his chest. “You can do this, just, let him down easy.” Wade straightens himself out and answers the door. Peter stands there, cheeks flushed like he’d just walked a mile, and shoves a big paper bag into Wade’s arms. Wade can tell he hasn't been drinking. At least in the past twenty four hours. 

“Breakfast for dinner?” he says and slowly slips past Wade into the apartment.

Wade opens the bag. “Gasp! You shouldn’t have! Pancakes are my favorite. Next to tacos. And burritos. Anything Mexican, really."

"Soft or hard? I like soft."

"You monster! Who doesn't like to munch on a gold ol' hard shell taco?"

"I mean, I don't mind trying things," Peter pauses for a moment, amused at the sight of Wade crumpling the bag around his nose and mouth to take in the delicious smell of pancakes. "out of my comfort zone."

After a moment of eye contact, Wade glances down at Peter's t-shirt. It has a cartoon version of Darth Vader holding a lightsaber. “So what are you, a nerd?”

“Yeah.” Peter crosses his arms. “What are _you_ , a jock?”

“Well, in high school I was more like one of those kids who everyone thinks is gonna be a school shooter one day. I did become a shooter, but not the kind that kills kids.”

“Oh right. Special forces. What do you do now? For a living, I mean,” asks Peter as he sits down on the couch.

“You’d be better off not knowing.” Wade sits beside Peter. He faces him, one arm resting along the back of the couch.

“Let me guess. You shoot people for money?”

“How’d you —?”

“Your shrine of weapons over there.”

Wade looks to the kitchen table where everything from a nunchuck to an AK-47 is strewn across it. “Oh. Right. That really gave me away, didn’t it?” he says with a big grin. Peter gives a cute chuckle and Wade’s smile fades as he looks at Peter and starts to think about the certain consequences of his... impending actions. Who does he think he is? He never thinks about the consequences of any actions. Like, ever.

"So how does this work?"

"You just tell me all your deepest darkest secrets while I try not to kill myself with a bread knife." Wade doesn't mind scaring Pete. He hopes he'll run him off by accident so he doesn't have to explain why he can't sponsor him.

"Why the bread knife? You've got a nice array of professional weapons right over there." Peter scoots closer and crosses his legs.

"You're just a little smart ass, aren't you?" Wade doesn't realize how close they've come on his rather large couch.

He’s surprised to see Peter lean in and give him a chaste kiss, but less so when he finds himself doing the same thing. At first it’s innocent, but then it turns into something just a tad bit more aggressive. Wade slips his tongue into Peter’s open mouth and grabs the side of his face, his other hand gripping onto the couch cushions. It's kind of a battle. Both of them are trying to push each other backwards, as if they're fighting for dominance. Peter has shifted onto his knees so he can become taller than Wade, but before anything else can happen, Wade pulls away quickly and stands up. Peter sits back on his haunches.

“Coffee?” he breaks the moment of silence. He saunters over to the kitchen, which is basically the same room as his living room. And his bedroom. And holy shit thank mother of fucking god not the bathroom.

He feels a flutter in his chest, something that he tries to gulp down.

“At 8pm?” Peter follows him. He doesn’t sound displeased that he broke the kiss. It seems like he’s more or so taken the act as a challenge.

“I work at nights,” he replies, throwing a plate of pancakes into the microwave and pressing start.

“How ominous.”

When Wade turns around Peter pushes him to the kitchen counter and grabs Wade's hand, guiding his thumb to brush against his bottom lip. Wade grips the counter with his other hand and squirms in protest, but the slightly smaller boy has him firmly pinned. He parts his lips and sucks intently on Wade’s thumb, looking at him with Bambi eyes. Wade can feel his face heat up as he watches him slowly suck up and down and _holy fuck what a fucking tease._

The microwave dings and Peter goes to sit back on the couch. “So, about our little bromance here,” says Wade when he comes to the couch with a plate full of pancakes and two mugs of coffee, “It’s kind of... forbidden.” He decides to tell the truth.

"Is it?" Peter looks at him with a simper. 

"Yeah," says Wade, taking a sip of coffee with a guilty smirk on his face.

"I guess we'll just have to be friends then," sighs Peter with mock dissapointment.

"I guess you're right." 

Neither of them think the arrangement will last long. 

Wade switches on the TV. "What do you like? My Little Pony? Teletubbies? Hey! Golden Girls is on!" He sets the remote down and brings all his attention to the TV screen.

"I can't tell if you grew up in the eighties or the early two thousands."

"Let's just say I'm not as old as my Lord and savior Bea Arthur."

"This here says you're thirty-two." When Wade pries his eyes away from the screen, Peter is squinting at his driver's license that he'd grabbed out of his wallet on the coffee table.

"Hey. Paws off, Blue's Clues!"

"You look just as bad as Charlie, the cannibal serial killer look-alike."

Wade snatches the license away from him and stuffs it in his pocket.

Peter huffs out a laugh.

"Had just come back from a rough outing, is all. Oh god, I made things worse for myself. Sounds like something a cannibal would say. Or a vampire."

"Vampires _are_ cannibals, dipshit."

While Wade ponders that notion, Peter's phone rings. He fumbles to get it out of his back pocket. "Aunt May?" He begins to look quite frightened as the voice on the other line rambles on. Peter can hardly get a word in. After a minute he hangs up. "I have to go."

"Want me to give you a ride?"

Peter gets a text and looks down in horror as he reads it.

"Yes please."

Wade swings his keys around on his finger before he unlocks the car door. "She says she's gonna throw out all my Star Wars action figures if I don't come home immediately," Peter tells him when they've both sat down and Wade is backing out of the parking spot.

Wade sighs. "Did you not tell her you were seeing your sponsor?"

"Uh... no?"

"Well why the fuck not?"

Peter shrugs with an adorable expression on his face.

"You wound me, Petey."

After Wade apologized to May about the miscommunication, he got back in his car and drove away. The woman seemed understanding and friendly with Wade, but he could tell she was furious with Peter. Oh, how he wishes someone would've looked out for him like that. 

A few days later, the clock reads _4am_ on a Friday morning. Wade has just gotten back from a long night of tracking down a child pornographer and is about to go to bed, when he hears a persistent knock at the door. "Fuck, I'm coming," he mutters, tucking his gun in the waist of his jeans. When he opens the door, Peter is standing there, bracing himself in the doorway. His face is flushed and it looks like he just ran all the way there. He tackles Wade with a hug. "Woah, what's wrong, Pete?"

"It's my fault," he says, voice hoarse. 

Wade cups Peter's face and takes a better look at him. Tears stain his tired eyes and he smells like alcohol. He feels angry at himself that he couldn't prevent Peter from relapsing, but he begins to think that maybe the poor guy never really stopped drinking in the first place. All he can really do now is look after him in this drunken state.' "What is?"

* * *

So here he is. Standing in the apartment of a guy he potentially loves, sobbing in his arms.

Peter's expression changes from despair to _reallyfuckingmad_ as he breaks off from Wade and paces around the living room. His voice raises gradually after each word he says. "It’s my fault that we got into a stupid fight over nothing. It’s my fault that she got in her car and drove away. Which means it’s also _my fault_ when she got into a car crash so bad that her skull was crushed and they couldn’t identify her if not for that stupid butterfly tattoo she had on her wrist." His voice breaks at the last few words.

Wade eyes widen as he catches Peter's hand and pulls him in close. "Hey shhh. Slow down, Pete. Who are you talking about?" he asks calmly, rubbing his back.

Peter wraps his arms around his waist. "Gwen fucking Stacy. I swear, she's ruined my life. And I have no one to be mad about that except myself," Peter mumbles into Wade's shoulder.

"Wanna break something with my bat?"

Okay. Maybe he really does love this guy.

* * *

Five minutes later, they're down in the dimly lit parking garage. Peter takes the baseball bat that is handed to him. "Who's shit is this?" he asks.

"The people who just moved outta here left their junk behind. Worst neighbors ever, by the way. Thank god the bastards are gone." Wade lines up some glass vases on a wooden crate. "Have at it."

Peter doesn't hesitate. He smashes every single one plus the crate. A man passes by looking alarmed. "Nothing to see here. Move along, Tiny Tim," says Wade threateningly. Peter loses his balance and stumbles back. Wade steadies him and takes the bat, then guides him all the way back up the stairs and into the apartment. His building doesn't have an elevator. "One more step, and... there. We made it." Wade sits him down on the couch and goes to get him a glass of water. When he comes back Peter is struggling to get his sweater off. "Here," he says, setting the water glass down and helping him pull it off. 

"You're really great, y'know that? I mean you're kind, funny... and don't even get me started on how fucking handsome and... big... and strong you look." Peter seems kind of oblivious as to what he's saying. Wade is a little dumbstruck at how cute he looks. Peter begins to climb onto Wade and kiss his neck.

"Hey Pete? I don't think now is the time for — shit, why do you have to be so good at that?" There's a nervous break in Wade's voice. What is he doing? He can't take advantage of Peter like this. "How about you sit right there and drink your water, 'kay?" Wade shifts Peter off of him and stands up. Peter looks up at him, flustered. "You okay to crash on the couch?"

Peter looks at him with a pout but says, "I guesso."

Wade gives Peter's aunt a call to let her know he's safe and is going to stay the night on his couch. She wants Wade to bring him home at first, but after some brief convincing, she reluctantly agrees to let him stay.

After stripping off his clothes, Wade flops into bed wearing just his Hello Kitty boxers. He's almost asleep when Peter stumbles into his room and climbs under the covers with him. "What are you doin'?" he mumbles sleepily, pushing a strand of hair off of Peter's forehead. He strokes the side of his face and Peter looks down at his lips and back up again. When he gives him a tender press of the lips everything just kind of melts away. He pulls back and nuzzles his head where neck meets shoulder. Wade's breath hitches when Peter trails a couple fingers along his side, eventually getting down to the waistband of his boxers. His hand stops there though, because he's fallen asleep. Wade rolls onto his back and lets out a sigh.

Why is he resisting again? Wade doesn't know anymore. He's willing to give up everything for this boy right about now. 

* * *

Peter opens his eyes, feeling incredibly disorientated. The room is hot and he has the usual headache and dry mouth he gets when he wakes up. He blinks a couple times at the unfamiliar curtains and Pikachu poster on the wall. There's a warm body pressed up against his back and an arm around his waist and holy fuck does this person smell good. He rolls over to his other side and finds the only familiar thing in the room. He sits up and pushes the covers off. "Wade?"

"Hm?" Wade replies, still half asleep.

"How'd I get here?"

Wade rolls onto his back and stretches. "You don't remember?"

The last thing Peter remembers is buying a bottle of tequila and running into Flash Thompson and a couple of his buddies. He said Gwen was a skank so Peter punched him and ran before they could do anything. He must've went to Wade's apartment after. "Not really."

Wade puts a hand on his, looking up at him. "You had a rough night. I'm sorry about Gwen."

"I told you about her?"

"Yeah. You yelled about her, but yeah."

"Wow. I'm sorry you had to take care of my whiny ass."

"It's alright. Your ass is nice."

Peter lays back down and closes his eyes, not really registering what was said. A minute later, he hears Wade singing softy to himself.

"I kissed a guy and I liked it..." Wade stops for a moment when he sees Peter has opened his eyes, but then he goes right back to singing. "...taste of his cherry chap-stick."

"I thought you didn't _want_ to kiss me."

"Oh yeah. About that. I don't think the whole sponsor thing is gonna work out between us," says Wade as he pins Peter to the mattress in a straddle. He presses his lips to his, hot and wet, before he pulls away. "I kissed a guy just to try it," he continues to sing before kissing Peter's neck. "Hope my girlfriend don't mind it." 

"Girlfriend?"

Wade hushes him and sings the next verse. "It felt so wrong." He kisses him lower. "It felt so right." And lower...

Peter bites back a moan.

"Don't lie, Katy. You were totally in love," says Wade, abandoning his sing-song voice as he pulls Peter's boxers down. Peter gives a breathy laugh. 

For once in his life, something has finally gone _right,_ and looking down at Wade, he begins to realize not skipping out on that meeting is the best damn decision he's ever made.


End file.
